Full disclosure: World War II is my era. I have a natural affinity for it. My daughter is certain she was born in the wrong time, having missed out on the Summer of Love in the ’60s and soaks up everything she can about the time when the times they were a changin’. My fascination is the 1940s.
The Postmistress is set on the eve of America’s entrance into WWII, and I’m predisposed to liking it for that fact alone, but I found so much more to recommend it as a thought-provoking, satisfying read.
Sarah Blake’s prose beautifully evokes both the passive pace of a small coastal Massachusetts town in 1941 and the startling existence of Londoners during the Blitz when nightly bombing raids changed the complexion of the world they awoke to each morning — where the neighbors they waved to one afternoon are pulled from the rubble the next.
The American public tuned in avidly to hear the news from Europe, most of them content to remain spectators. Blake perfectly captures the calm before the storm that we know is coming: America holding its breath on the eve of war.
The main characters are complex and engrossing. Populated, in part, by familiar historical names from the era, the story centers on three women whose lives intersect in the form of Will Fitch: one is his wife, one a reporter and one the postmistress of his hometown whom he entrusts with a potentially heavy burden.
Emma, orphaned as a child, finds in her young husband the pair of watchful, loving eyes she lost when her parents died, and tries to hold back what is coming by refusing to look straight at it.
Frankie, a radio journalist, believes in reporting the unvarnished truth as a clarion call to action. Her frustration with America’s inertia as England, France and Poland are shattered by the seemingly unstoppable Nazi war machine leads her into occupied territory to get the story out to the world.
Iris, the eponymous 40-year-old spinster postmistress, invests her belief in the stability of the post office, the keeping of order as a wall against what she cannot control. But the messages delivered by her have the potential to evoke the very devastation she tries to restrain.
“I don’t know what’s on its way … whatever it is, you can’t stop it,” proclaims Sarah Blake in the voice of one character, adding, “You can’t change what’s coming and you shouldn’t try,” in the voice of another.
This is a perfect book for curling up with a cup of tea and a stretch of time in front of you. Compelling and absorbing, it is the kind of book that takes up residence in your brain for the duration, asking you to ponder as well as enjoy the journey.
Since I tend to be an organizer, a list maker, a believer in by doing the right thing I can create the right outcome, The Postmistress has provoked some interesting conversations in my head. This book had me looking outward from an unfamiliar point of view, and that is a worthy endeavor now and again: to slip on a different perspective and walk around in it for a while.
This post originally appeared on my former blog, StyleSubstanceSoul.
Leave a Reply